The Gift
by Violet Dawson
Summary: Sometimes it's worth getting up before the sun... present for Drew Marigold


Title: The Gift  
  
By: Violet Dawson  
  
Dedication: To my Drew, in return for all the help you've given me. Thank you for always being there to listen when I need you most.  
  
Author's Notes: This is what comes of having an elf for a best friend, what else can I say?  
  
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"Violet, Violet, wake up."  
  
Reluctantly I open my protesting eyes to focus on the fair face before me, warm and glowing softly in the torchlight.  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
She smiles at my sleepy reply.  
  
"I have something to show you."  
  
I hear anticipation clearly in her voice and force myself to sit up against the headboard, bringing the warm blankets up with me. She sets gently on the edge of my bed, patiently waiting for me to shake the sleepiness from my mind.  
  
Looking out the window reveals a bright smattering of stars still caressed in the night sky.  
  
"What time is-" my question fades into a yawn.  
  
"Early." She replies simply.  
  
I nod, half-expecting an answer like that, and slowly move to dangle my feet over the edge of the bed. The rest of my body follows and soon I'm standing, if not somewhat wobbly so, next to the bedpost. Taking this as acceptance of the early hour, she stands as well, and gently leads me to the changing screen, torch held skillfully in her other hand.  
  
As the light reaches the screen's other side I see that she has already laid clothes out for me, obviously having done so to forgo my usual business clothes and high heels for something of a simpler nature. I smile at her choices, but say nothing as she hands me the torch and walks over to the bed to wait patiently while I change.  
  
Setting the torch into its appointed place on the wall, I undress slowly, reluctant to leave the comfort of warm and rumpled bed clothes, though once they land on the floor the room's chill causes me to don my friend's selections with more speed.  
  
Finally I pull on a pair of flats, taking a few experimental steps before reclaiming the torch and wandering back to her, releasing one final yawn to seal my silent protest.  
  
"It'll be worth it, I promise." She says, laughing softly at my prolonged tiredness.  
  
"Of course it will, why else would you have woken me up before the sun?"  
  
My voice gives away the doubt I have in the truth of either statement.  
  
"If you truly wish to go back to sleep..." She leaves off playfully.  
  
"No, no, I'm awake now. Where are we going anyways?"  
  
Grinning, she points out the door.  
  
"Well I could have guessed that."  
  
I smile in spite of myself as her anticipation becomes contagious. She takes the torch in her more experienced hands once again and the wavering shadows I have been creating subside even as we begin down the hall.  
  
Several minutes later two sets of footsteps walk out of the lighted halls, though I hear only my own as she leads me down the stone path, through the gates and into the woods beyond. I am certain she makes her own footsteps louder on my account; but natural grace refuses to be ignored and so we two walk as one, if the story of my ears is to be believed.  
  
She takes my hand in hers now, carefully leading me on the safe path around roots and pitfalls. As my eyes begin to adjust I am caught off-guard by how different she appears under starlight alone, for there is only a sliver of the moon out tonight.  
  
Soft, brown hair shines and everything about her seems lighter and more natural in this near darkness. I am suddenly reminded that this is no ordinary company I keep; she looks regal, royal and there is no wonder in my mind that she won herself a Prince.  
  
Obviously she has felt me watching her because she looks up from studying the path to give me a questioning look. I wonder silently if she knows how much of the starlight is reflected in her blue eyes or how breath-taking it causes her to appear. But I keep both of these thoughts to myself, knowing they would be idly blown aside by the lady beside me and simply shrug in reply to her gaze.  
  
She shakes her head at me, causing the brown waves to ripple down her back, and replants her focus on our path. We continue in silence for a time as I walk beside her, trying to find what appeals to her so much in these woods.  
  
Finally I break the silence, "What do you hear that I cannot?"  
  
She tips her head to one side, listening to all the sounds that my own ears will never identify, before replying thoughtfully.  
  
"It's very peaceful right now; a nest full of baby robins are sleeping somewhere nearby, an owl is hooting while it waits for a mouse to come back out of its hiding place, there's a breeze blowing just the tops of the tallest oaks and," she smiles before she continues, "my Violet tries to be quiet so I can hear it all."  
  
I laugh at my own efforts towards silence and we continue down out trail again, now I try harder then ever to hear what comes naturally to her.  
  
We walk until I can feel my heart beat against my chest and my breath grows shorter and more rigid. My friend looks undaunted by the tiredness so forefront in my own mind.  
  
She offers me a sympathetic "almost there" and slows her pace to ease my discomfort.  
  
Soon a clearing comes into view and my friend unconsciously quickens her pace once again. I keep up as best I can and enter the clearing only a few steps behind her.  
  
She silently points to the left and, as I turn, I feel my breath catch in my throat. What she points to is a waterfall, cascading down from the heights above and crashing back to eye level, sending mist in every visible direction.  
  
The first rays of morning catch this mist and cause it to explode in a rainbow of colors: deep burgundies near the east and bright marigolds stretch their way to the western end of the falls, not an inch of the water has been left its original icy blue. We watch silently as the colors spread and transform, a natural kaleidoscope changing before our very eyes.  
  
Though far too soon the brilliance blurs and sapphire skies are reflected in the mists, hiding the secret beauty of the dawn. She turns, smiling at the awe still written on my no longer tired face.  
  
"Was it worth it?" She asks quietly and I can only nod in reply.  
  
Gently she takes my hand in hers and we start back to the halls, falling again into one set of footsteps, if my ears are to be believed. 


End file.
